What If
by Phoenix2063
Summary: Spock struggles with the loss of Vulcan and attempts to help his surviving parent deal with a broken bond. Mostly Spock character development, AUish, but K/S eventually will happen beyond my control.
1. Chapter 1

Jagged thunderbolts patterned the planet's surface. Together they formed a dangerous cavernous vacuum and sucked everything in: Solids', gases, molecules and atoms of every type slid helplessly down the dark abyss. Everything fell inward. The ground crunched, rock scrapped deafly together as each particle raced to the planets center.

So when the cliff shifted and broke there was no hope for the being steadied at the top of the Katric Ark entrance. Skin molecules shattered and stretched, caught in limbo between the inescapable gravity well and the transporter, bits and pieces floated up, while the rest crumbled down with the planet.

Death happened all at once. Minds exploded. Frequencies privy to the Vulcan race screamed and twisted in agony. 10 billion Katras unleashed, memories and secrets scattered into the dissolving air before being sucked away into nothingness. The aftershock was minute. It lasted perhaps five seconds before infinite gravity swallowed the murdered thoughts whole. The silence was perhaps more painful than five seconds of telepathic torture.

Spock remembers screaming a name, reaching out a hand only to stare in horror as blood and organic matter bubbled and fell from the air, splattering on the transporter pad with a lifeless slick sound that neither son nor spouse could ever forget.

The emptiness of the planet tore into Spock, it hurt, but the ripping of a parental bond was worse. The hum of the familiar thread stretched and pulled, snapping a piece from Spock's mind that he'd never get back. The mental wound lay bleeding and torn, gapping from the gruesome loss.

Once all settled and physical feeling restored, Spock thought deeply of his mother. He reached out all mental powers to her, psychic fingers circled around the remains of her damaged mind.

No coherent thought, no memory, nothing was left behind but her screams.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim Kirk had seen plenty of death. He'd lived inside it and found a way to survive. Tarsus got cold at night. Very cold. Some nights the only blanket was a still warm body found lying in a ditch. Kirk thought that if he could bring one child to safety, then one parent could give up their resting spot to keep him from freezing to death. Those gut wrenching moments had stayed with him, dwelled in him, and found a particularly cozy home in the depths of his psyche. But in every instance there had been one constant.

Emotion.

So when Kirk found himself staring to the blank face of the ship's first officer, he didn't know what to think.

The woman with him was also surprisingly silent, but not as unfeeling as Spock. She looked sunken in very much like the planet they had left behind. Being a human from Vulcan, Kirk could only conclude that this was Spock's mother. And the man they didn't retrieve?

His death was not significant to Kirk. But how unnerving that it could settle just a deep as the hundreds of colonists he had watched die when he was just 14.

Time felt like a rubber band stretch out. Any minute now things would snap into focus.

Kirk waited.

Technicians stared at the green globs smearing the transporter pad and moved very slowly to clean it up.

"No." Spock's voice sent time hurling into focus.

Sound reinvented itself most notably to the tune of Klaxons.

"Beam it into space."

Chekov reluctantly nodded; his hands collected in a dreary dance of fingertips on the panel, reenergized pad 2, and dematerialized the edematous matter somewhere far off from the ship's position.

Spock resigned from the pad, holding the woman's hand and led her to the door. The swish was louder than normal and Kirk turned.

He was about to watch them file out when Spock pivoted to face him.

"I will see my Mother to her temporary quarters. While I am occupied, I would like you to be on the bridge. Pike made you first officer. need to know that I can trust you. Set a course to the _**Laurentian System**_, I will be back shortly."

"Of course. Spock. I'm sorry." Jim projected it loudly, sincerely. If the Vulcan felt any of his condolences, it was worth it.

Spock's gaze held for a second longer before straightening and walking out of the room.

"Fuck."

Chekov stood from his post and settled at Kirk's side.

"I…

I couldn't…"

Kirk squeezed the youths shoulder.

"No one blames you. Especially not Spock."

"What about his Mother?" Chekov asked, his voice crumbling and soft.

Kirk didn't answer. He couldn't.

He'd never faced this kind of death before.

It was damning and comforting all at once. After Tarsus, Kirk felt a desensitization, a numbness to death that had left him hollow and cold to the event.

The ache was almost pleasant.


	3. Chapter 3

The corridors of the Enterprise were hectic. Men and women ran from section to section in a blind frenzy. But when Spock and his mother entered the hallways the bustle seemed to part and make way for the small family with reverence. Not everyone knew what transpired or what it meant for the mixed race pair. But everyone could sense the grief that wafted through the air, and the aching sadness that everyone felt for any remaining Vulcan.

Though Amanda was wholly human, her first instinct was to hold back any emotion in public. And though the majority of that public was also human it didn't stop her from redirecting all facial expressions to the tight grip she had on her son's arm. 

Spock stopped beside a blank door and programmed a private entry code. 

They parted and Spock's mother seemed to draw inside with an unbearable need. 

And when the doors closed. 

She screamed. 

Spock winced. He'd felt the scream in his mind and the duality of it all was painful.  
Her screams turned into sobs. And her sobs birthed pure agony from the torn bond that carved her from the inside out. The emptiness, the silence, the finality of death with no katra settled within her a cold and dark foundation. 

Spock reached out for her, scared for a minute that the loss of a bond could reach her in the same way as a Vulcan. That she might die in front of his eyes from the lack of a telepathic link. 

"Mother, please. Let me join with you." Spock requested his voice soft and his hands open to her. 

She shook. She shivered. She fell to the floor and curled in, gripping her hair as the emptiness between her hands persisted. 

She continued to cry. Her heaves were dangerous and her state of shock critical. 

"Please." Spock reached his fingers toward her face. She flinched but did not move away.  
He cupped the soft curve of her face, forcing her eyes to focus before he cradled her cheek and temple in the spindly meld position. 

Spock touched her mind lightly.

The sound of her son's mindvoice threw her for minute. The cadence and the tone so much like her husbands. She clung to that voice. Sobbed into it. Eventually the embrace of a mind settled her frenzy of emotion. 

Then memories attacked. 

Amanda young and beautiful with flowing brunette hair stepping off a shuttle craft to Vulcan with such wonder in her eyes. Wonder melted into love as her gaze settled on Sarek's form approaching to greet her. Flash forwards of hands touching. Heat and madness. The feelings and emotions of a new bond. A trip to Earth. The awkwardness of Sarek's face as he interacted with her human family. The frustration and time put into engineering their genes. Vulcan healers and scientists working and working. And finally two hands touching over Amanda's belly. Happiness, joy. Love. Love. Love.

There was so much of it Spock almost drew back. But fear would not stop him. His mother was crumbling before his eyes. Fear would not keep him from piecing her back together. He would not lose her. 

Spock enforced his shields and continued. Spock let his own youth pass him by. He'd seen this part. He knew the arguments the pain the couple endured while they implemented conflicted parenting. He saw how it tore them apart and brought them together. He watched his mother's lonely nights when she'd left Sarek for two months after Spock joined Starfleet. 

He saw their muted apologies. Mostly from his father. Saw the begging the dullness in his father's eyes. He saw them kissing without the blood fever but he saw heat none-the-less. Their coupling was beautiful, Spock admitted, once he realized the extent of his father's emotions though the meld. He felt an echo of his father's mind. And once the memories started to filter down to the end, Spock took hold of them. He collected them and bundled them up in warmth of his own and gently put them back into place. 

Finally, Spock began to withdraw. He took hold of his mother's arm with his other hand and squeezed, giving her a physical anchor while he let go of her mentally. Slowly her eyes fluttered open. Tears clung to the rim of her eyes. Her breath stilled and her brow furrowed. 

Eventually she let go of a heaving breath and showed the first signs of her regular calm. 

"Spock." She said in recognition rather than greeting. 

"Yes mother?" Spock knelt in front of her and took her hands. 

"Sarek is dead." She said. Her voice cold and unfeeling. All emotion had been stripped from her breakdown. 

"Yes mother." 

"Show me what you feel." She requested, her hands settled on Spock's encouragingly. 

"That would be unwise." 

"What is necessary is never unwise." She chided. 

"You will not... appreciate my view. I do not... I did not love him as you did. I believe the experience will be painful." Spock admitted. 

"You loved him, Spock, I know you did. Let me see." 

"No. I will not hurt you. You are not ready. Perhaps when you have recovered from the severance of a bond." 

"And you... what of your bond? Doesn't it hurt?" 

"No. It does not." 

"Who is it?" 

"I do not understand the question." 

"Who has replaced T'Pring?" 

"No one has replaced our bond. I merely do not feel the effects of its loss." 

"Spock." 

"Her name is Nyota. She is aboard this vessel. And she is human. But... we... are not

bonded." 

Amanda smiled, for the first time. Spock's bashful admission earned it. And together they began to mend. 

"Mother... I must go to the bridge. I am the Captain now of this vessel. I trust you will be alright?" 

"I have lost my husband and my bondmate. I will never be alright." She said as two small tears dripped from her eyes. "Never the less, I will live." She added in a quiet whisper. 

"That is all I ask. We will see to your happiness later." Spock said, reaching forward he brushed the tears from her cheek. Spock pressed a kiss to his mother's forehead. 

He grabbed her hand and felt out the parental bond they shared. 

~I do not wish to regret any longer. I've always wanted you to know that… I love you.~ Spock didn't stay to see her reaction. He couldn't. He already felt too exposed, but without his father's careful Vulcan eye, he found a sense of liberation with his emotions. 

Maybe soon, he could bring himself to say it out loud.


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk left the transporter room, strode directly to the turbolift and entered the bridge with long purposeful strides.

Chekov followed him and settled into his station.

He hesitated at the Captain's chair. Spock would be back soon, and it didn't feel right. Nothing about this felt right, but then again he just watched a planet dissolve into nothingness. He watched a man, a father and husband, die in transport. And he is damn sure he saw emotion in a Vulcan's eyes.

Nothing was right at all.

He didn't hesitate. He made the order and kept his promise to Spock.

"Set course to the Laruentian System, maximum warp."

Everyone else did.

"Sir?"

"Where's Spock?" Uhura asked, her eyes darting about the bridge expectantly.

"He advanced me to acting Captain."

Everyone kept their still pose at their stations. Loyal as always.

"Aye, I herd the order myzelf!" Chekov exclaimed, punching in the coordinates enthusiastically.

"Why you?" Uhura clipped.

Not at him, Kirk reminded himself. Everyone was on edge. Everyone had a right to be on edge. They were the only starship capable of bringing down a massive Romulan vessel, their captain was held hostage, and their first officer was out of commission for the time being. Nothing about their situation was easy. But that's why they had to be the ones to do it.

"Pike made him First Officer." Sulu added, his hands clutching the warp throttle, clearly waiting to see the consensus on Kirk's order.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing." Uhura whipped back to her station, securing the earpiece and flipped a few switches.

'So do I.' Kirk thought, hoping silently that Spock would be back to take over soon. He could feel the power throbbing under his feet. He could barely recall giving the order, but it felt natural. It scared him how easily he wished for command. And yet, he didn't. He was a cadet. He was adept at leading, but ordering? Shoving a starship into battle? This wasn't just his own actions; this was the coordinating efforts of half a dozen individuals to get the results that he wanted. Unless things happened instantly, it seemed daunting to put the pieces together. Kirk's hand tightened on the command armchair as he stood next to it, sweating and turned white.

"Punc-"

"Wait!" An ensign glued to Spock's science station exclaimed, voice shaking, and startled himself at his own outburst.

"What is it?" Kirk replied, his eyes rolling slightly at the delay.

"I'm picking up life forms on a sister planet just out of transporter range. Sir. They're Vulcan."

"Take us closer, how many?" Kirk asked.

"Just.. Just one. The other is human, and the third is not human."

"What is he?"

"I do not know." The ensign shrugged watching Kirk to see the outcome of his interruption.

"Good work, Uhura, can you open a channel? Are there any communications systems in range down there?" 

"It seems to be an outpost, frequency bandwidth somewhat outdated. I'll try." A few bleeps and fuzzy scrambling later, Uhura announced that the channel was open.

"Federation Outpost, this is… Acting Captain, First Officer James T. Kirk… are you in need of assistance?"

The channel blinked and clicked and the static flooded most of the thickly accented speech nestled behind it.

"Repeat, are you in need of assistance?" Kirk squinted to concentrate on the flood of noise and speech filling the bridge.

"Jim?" A dark voice filled in behind. It was different. It was from someone else. Kirk couldn't be sure if he'd heard correctly. But it sounded like his name, his informal name that only Bones habitually used.

"Do you want us to beam you out?" Kirk asked, he could deal with questions later but at least he'd have the peace of mind that he tried to rescue them. A Vulcan… He hoped Spock would be pleased if he picked up one of his rapidly dwindling species. It was enough to make him want to try. It felt longer, but they were delayed only a mere minute before their answer came.

"Aye! Beam us up!" The accent was back, piercing through a window of static. Kirk finally sat down in the Captain's Chair, though teetered at the edge, ready to leap up the moment Spock arrived.

Kirk searched his armchair and came up blank. 'She's so advanced', he thought as he flipped through various menus and screens. Another feeling of being pulled deep under water washed through Kirk's mind. Way over his head. Way too far. But the waves, the momentum, the feeling, it drove him even so.

"Uhura, patch me through to the transporter room." Kirk asked briskly. She looked at him for a moment then comprehended.

She complied and gave a nod.

"Transporter room, this is Acting Captain, First Officer James T. Kirk, I have the coordinates of a Vulcan life form and two humanoid life forms to beam up. Have them report to temporary quarters and remain there until further notice." He definitely had to shorten his title, Kirk thought. Or Spock should come back and relieve him.

"Kir-Keptin! Sorry Keptin, I haff to speak with you!" Chekov stopped Kirk's order to continue on course.

"What it is Mr. Chekov?"

"If my calcuwuations are correct, the ship iz headed for Earth." Everyone turned to the young navigator, and then looked at Kirk.

The Laurentian system was far, in the opposite direction toward Klingon Space. If they left to gather the fleet… it would take days.

Kirk's eyes squeezed shut for a moment. He saw how quickly things happened. Felt how dark and deep the depths of this madness went. Just a day ago he was a cocky son-of-a-bitch flipping through federation bullshit tests like a goddamn super-genius. What test was this? What fucking simulation prepared a senior cadet to command a starship and battle an unknown massive, Romulan force? Hell, no one's ever seen a Romulan! The thought struck him hard. How monumental. But then again, he was just a kid playing on swing sets a week prior before those same playgrounds were splattered with starving bodies and filled with raid sirens.

Death followed him, he guessed.

Kirk thought for a moment. The moment felt longer than it actually was. But the eyes on him didn't help. Waiting. And waiting. He didn't want to betray Spock. But he didn't want Earth to disappear either.

"We've got'em sir!" A voice called out from the open channel still pumping down the transporter room.

Was it really only a few seconds?

"Good work, Kirk out." Uhura cut off the channel.

"Chekov, can you trace the ion trail of that ship?"

"Yessir!"

"Do it. We're going after them." Chekov pivoted his chair, tapped his screens and nodded at Sulu.

The ship lurched forward, _inertial_dampeners within the ship still made Kirk lean back in his chair. No. Not his chair.

But it was comfortable.


End file.
